Where Has The Time Gone?
by P'aedt
Summary: Harry has had far from a normal life, and now he has decided to forgo his final year of schooling in order to hunt for bits and pieces of an evil wizard's soul. To further complicate matters, he discovers another group on the very same mission, for surpr
1. Sticks but no Stones

AN: This chapter gets to rambling a bit. I swear to god that it won't happen again. Also, there is an innacuracy, and this is a weak and not-so-good chapter. I'm sorry... I think it starts off strong and ends weakly. I wouldn't mind your reviews with suggestions to writing, I'm really trying to learn here. Also, I think the next chapter is about forty times better than this one, so you should just give it another shot... it's really only two chapters. I apologize about the innacuracy to Rowling's story, but don't worry, it won't happen again.

* * *

Standing in the dark alley, she lifted her wand. An eerie glow passed about the alley, and another hooded figure walked up the alley. 

"Put away that stick, fool."

The woman whispered something and the eerie glow waned into non-existence.

"I didn't come here to chat." The woman said.

"Perhaps you are looking for this?" The hooded man held up a photograph. "Yes… it did belong to Gryffindor. But, to get it, you must first find a way into Hogwarts and then break into Dumbledore's office, and perform the charm. All without Dumbledore noticing or interfering, no small task."

"Dumbledore's dead." The woman said simply. "Snape killed him."

"Snape? I knew he was a fool. I shouldn't have let him… well, what's in the past is in the past, and we've no way to alter it. Perhaps it is for the best, after all, your task has become much easier."

"Do you intend to tell the master?"

"No. The less he knows, the better. His temper has been poor, lately, with the untimely death of Sirius."

"I thought our master hated Sirius."

"Disliked him, yes. Sirius' style was always against our master's, Sirius was very, flashy. But our master loved Sirius, as one would love a brother. And Sirius was a powerful pawn, though still only a pawn."

"I am glad I am no pawn, that our master sees fit to give me important assignments. Be good to our master, Thomas. Keep him well."

The woman left with a swish of her cloak.

"I will, pawn."

* * *

The quaffle was easily blocked by Ronald Weasly. 

"What do you do again?"

Charley Weasly had come home for a week's vacation, and brough one John O'Sullivan with him. John was a close friend of Charley's, who had played a bit of quidditch at Hogwarts with Charley on the old Gryffindor dream teams. John had been an okay chaser, by far the worst player on the team.

"Magical research. Personally, I'm working on a potion that makes the human body resistant to fire. Charley's group has agreed to participate in field testing of the potion. So far it's going pretty well, but we need to make the effect more long-lasting. Right now it needs to be taken ever twenty minutes." John had the quaffle stolen by Ginny.

"Working on anything else?" Ron asked, as he missed a save against Ginny.

"Yeah, a divination potion. It would be used to discern the location of someone or maybe even some thing."

"How would that work?" Harry asked.

"Well, you would quaff the potion, obviously, and then you would try to, ask a question of a person's soul. Usually, you'll have trouble because of occlumency and such, but if you asked it something like 'where's this,' we expect the soul, which has no connection to it's current mental housing, would not choose to use legillimacy against you. Plus, it might not even know."

"How's this different from, say, veritaserum?" Ginny had just gotten schooled by Charley.

"Well, veritaserum requires them to take the potion. That's really the only difference. Theoretically, the soul would be less likely to use legillimancy, I guess…" John trailed off, tried to steal the quaffle from Harry, failed, and watched Ron easily block Harry's shot.

"Dinner!" Fleur Delacour called.

The quidditch players flew back to the Burrow.

* * *

The moon shone dimly into the third-story window, its kiss falling on a gently snoring lump. 

"wake up" something spoke in parseltoungue. "wake up."

The snoring lump sat up in its bed, staring out into its room. "Wh, who's there?" Shakily the lump stuttered.

"Imperio!" something said, moving his wand.

Acting not of its own accord, the lump moved its wand to its head, and withdrew a silvery substance which fell neatly into a waiting vial.

"you have been, most helpful" the parseltoungue whispered again. "Obliviate!"

* * *

"Ginny, your O.W.L. results came." Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione had just woken up and headed down to breakfast. "Here you are. And you lot, you all got letters from Hogwarts too." 

"We weren't planning on going back." Hermione said. "But thank you anyway."

"Well, now that I've thought about it, it might be best to go back to Hogwarts, at least for a while." Harry said. "There's a couple of loose ends I need to tie up."

"What? But what about…" Ginny smashed her older brother's foot. "That trip to America we'd planned? We'll have to cancel the whole thing!"

"Well, our 'trip' can wait until after seventh year, though I expect I'll be done with my business by the end of winter break." Harry sighed and picked up his letter. "Might as well shop, though. I might learn something usefull this year. Hey, Hermione, later on I want to practice some non-verbal spells, care to help out?"

"Sure."

By this time, Ginny had opened her results.

"Whad'ya get?" Ron asked, attempting to take the paper from her.

"I'm not going to tell you if you're going to be like that." Ginny replied. "Suffice it to say that it was much better than whatever you got."

"Aw… c'mon… tell us!" Harry said, coming over.

"And you" Ginny said menacingly. "If you want to know, it'll cost ya."

Harry reached for his money pouch and was immediately smacked on the back of the head by Hermione.

"You know full well what she meant." Hermione laughed.

"Yeah, well, all I can say is if she doesn't want us to read her results, she'd better start running!" Ron called.

"Like you could catch me!" Ginny laughed, and tore out of the house. Ron followed her at an easy loping trot, not having any difficulty keeping up with his sister.

"Gonna join them?" Hermione asked.

"Actually, no, running's not my bag." Levicorpus Harry thought, and Ron shot in the air. Ginny turned and started laughing at her brother.

"You missed." Hermione noted.

"Right."

* * *

"Ah, Mr. Weasly, how may I help you today?" Scrimgeur didn't even look up from the scroll in front of him. 

"I need a little help with the Magical Law Enforcement office… there has been a request for a raid on a small wizard shop for some time now, and the enforcement office hasn't made good on their promise." Arthur sighed. "And I need this bill signed into law."

"Zonk's? Certainly they aren't getting into the fake defense item business."

"We've had reports." Arthur shrugged, and then frowned. "And don't think that I'm doing this because Zonko's is my sons' fiercest competitors."

"Far be it from me to assume one of my employees would abuse their power for their family's economic gain." Rufus eyed Arthur. "Now let me see this bill…"

Rufus examined the bill. "Ah, well, I can sign it by the end of the week. Right now I need to run, and I want to discuss this with my advisors."

"Take your time." Arthur smiled as he left.

* * *

The clock sounded two in the afternoon. 

"Arthur, you've been reading that article for fifteen minutes! We were supposed to leave by three quarters of one!" Mrs. Weasly snatched the article from Mr. Weasly.

Long Lost Wizard Found:  
Despite the death of Albus Dumbledore, new Hogwarts Headmistress Professor Minerva McGonnagal has had little trouble locating a Defense teacher for the coming term. Famous Wizard Marcus McCadell, who disappeared before the Dark Lord's attack on Godric Hollow, 16 years ago. "He taught once before at this school under (Albus) Dumbledore, for one year. His defense class was loved by all, and so we decided that bringing him back would be a good idea." Whether or not his skill as a wizard prompted McGonnagal to bring him back as an extra defender of the castle, McGonnagal would not say, as the 60 year old ex-Head Auror was once considered one of the best duelists in the country.

"Who is that guy?"

"I remember him when I joined the Ministry. He preformed a background check on me, and then quit the ministry to teach." Mr. Weasly said.

"McCadell?" Bill asked, levitating his and Fleur's trunks down the stairs. "I had him in my fourth year, I'd credit my curse breaking skills to him if he'd let me. Great guy, played the guitar like a madman. A bit eccentric, not unlike, well…" Bill trailed off as they all remembered Albus Dumbledore.

"Well, at least Minerva isn't having any trouble getting a new Defense teacher. Even Albus had troubles before… you know… but now, with Dumbledore gone, Hogwarts isn't nearly as safe."

"If reports are true about this McCadell guy, it should be nearly as safe." Mr. Weasly said. Even Moody thinks McCadell was the best thing ever to happen to the Auror office."

"We must be going" Mrs. Weasly fussed. "Okay, we're going to apparate there… Ginny, you'll side-along with your father. Hermione? You wouldn't mind side-alonging with me would you? And Harry, Ron, you've both passed your tests, so…"

Five minutes later with a pop, all the witches and wizards of schooling age staying at the burrow (as well as one Arthur and Molly Weasly) were in Diagon Alley, prepared for a shopping spree in which robes, books, and other sundries necessary to life at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

* * *

Harry Potter and Ronald Weasly looked over the lists for Seventh and Sixth-year students. 

Books:  
Defense Against The Dark Arts, N.E.W.T: Darkest Darkness, By Tom Marvolo Riddle Charms, N.E.W.T: Standard Book Of Spells, Grade 7 (6 for ginny)  
Ancient Runes, N.E.W.T: Translations: A Study Advanced Herbology, N.E.W.T: 10000 More Magical Herbs and Fungi Potions, N.E.W.T: Advanced Potion Making Transfiguration, N.E.W.T: Switching and Conjuring: A Study

Fortunately, Harry and Ron had all but the Defense book, so they needed to carry very little. As Harry looked over the by line of the Defense book, his brow furled.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Tom Riddle is the real name of Voldemort." A small twitch from Ron. "I wonder why an ex-Auror would have us read a book by Voldemort himself?" A shudder from a passing woman who overheard naught but the final two words.

"Hmm…" Ron opened the book. "Look, there's nothing but Dark magic in here… I wonder if McGonnagal knows about this"

* * *

Hermione walked down the street with Ginny. "You know, it's really not your fault." 

"I know, Hermione, okay? He doesn't want me to get hurt, I understand that. What he doesn't understand is that this hurts me more than anything. He thinks I'm so weak that I can't take care of myself emotionally."

"No, he doesn't. He just doesn't want to take that chance."

"Still… it hurts that he doesn't trust me to know that I want."

"He knows what he wants isn't conducive towards relationships. Be happy that he let you go. It means he truly cares."

* * *

Over the next few days, the weather became increasingly cloudy until the sun rose, and all thought it was night.

* * *

"Time to get to the train!" Molly Weasly had a way of screaming at her kids that allowed them to quickly out of their beds and their hands on their ears. 

Hermione watched Harry dash to put his stuff in his trunk for about five minutes before handing him his wand, and leaving one word, "Pack."

Harry, in is infamous insanity, attempted to use the spell to a modicum of success, and all of his things were packed in about five seconds.

Ron on the other hand, had attempted the same charm with an oddly different result: as opposed to things flying into his trunk, they flew out. The result of this was several pieces of used parchment, rotting food, and all sorts of inkpots, books, and clothes came flying out about the room. In what must be considered a stroke of pure genius from Ronald Weasly, he decided that since saying 'pack' did the opposite of what he expected it to, saying 'kcap' would get things INTO his trunk. Strangely enough, it worked. Though whether this was due to his genius or Hermione saying 'pack' and moving a small stick of wood at the same time is up for some speculation.

Harry levitated both his and Ginny's trunks down the stairs, while Ronald floated his trunk down the stairs. Hermione's trunk was levitated by Arthur, because in the words of Hermione herself, "Ron needs to keep more concentration on his trunk than he has…"

The practical upshot of this was that both of the girls whom our main male characters have fallen in love with had their bags carried for them by a male, at least closely related to their particular choice in boyfriend.

As the Weasly family neared Kings Cross, they began to notice that their clock read 10:00 am, but there was no light out. Shrugging, Mr. Weasly drove on.

Unbeknownst to them, a shadowy figure cast a simple spell onto their car, and went to cross the street.

Unfortunately for this person, the moment he decided to cross the street coincided with an eighteen-wheeler with damaged headlights making an attempt to get to the repair shop without maiming or killing anyone. Needless to say, the poor driver failed in his last mission as a truck driver, as he was fired the next day.

As the weasly family entered the station, they noticed many muggles speaking in hurried voices about the new darkness, and what it meant. Ignoring the foolish people without wands, the Weasly family crossed the barrier, and two thirds of the convoy boarded a train headed for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

* * *

AN: if you want to find out WHICH two thirds of the convoy… stick around, that's in the next chapter ; )

Which you should do anyway, because it is much better than this one.


	2. Good Eats and Marvelous Feats

AN: Reviews keep me righting, or so I will continually state until I have enough…  
For those of you who don't like this story, reviews will keep me from writing as well… hee hee…  
And I profusely apologize for the inaccuracy about Hermione's age in the previous chapter… my bad… I thought her seventeenth was the September IN the term, not her eighteenth.

* * *

Chapter 2: Good Eats and Marvelous Feats 

Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron all exited the train and entered the Thestral-drawn carriages in a ride up to the castle. As they did this, they all embarked on a discussion of Horcrux locations.

"I wouldn't be surprised if there was one at that orphanage. After all, he did like to maintain his personal history." Hermione said.

"Nah, can't be. Voldemort hated that orphanage. " Harry replied.

"Still… he did hide one horcrux at the Riddle House, which wasn't, well, his favorite place, I'm sure." Hermione added thoughtfully.

"I bet he left one at the Gaunt house." Ron said. "After all, he made the ring there…"

"I doubt that's the case." Ginny said. "What about where your parents… you know…"

"Died? Nah, there's no way he could have made one there, because I was supposed to be his last. Wait… the snake… the bones weren't a horcrux…" Harry went back into deep thought.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione was confused.

"Voldemort had a six-part-soul when he came to our house, or so Dumbledore believed, and after he killed the muggle, he made the final horcrux because… it solidified his return… so the bones weren't a horcrux after all, it was the Snake that was the horcrux, finishing his seven part soul." Harry said.

"But… then, two of these horcruxes are on You-Know-Who's person?" Ron said. "Isn't that foolish?"

"Hagrid once said something like 'Gringotts is the safest place in the world to keep something, except Hogwarts.'" Harry said. "And why would Hogwarts be safer than Gringotts? Because Dumbledore was at Hogwarts… and since Voldemort is nearly as powerful as Dumbledore was, there is a second place safer than Gringotts… wherever Voldemort is."

"I doubt stuff would be safe near You-Know-Who, after all, it's not like his group is a group of friendly, kind, law-abiding people." Hermione said.

"Yes, yes, we know how evil the Death Eaters are… but," they rounded the corner to the castle "But aren't they all afraid of You-Know-Who? So they wouldn't dare to take his horcrux from him… I mean, even if they knew about it. You-Know-Who would be a great person to have guard something, if you could convince him that the thing was worth guarding. And I'm sure his horcruxes fit that description easily." Ginny went back into thought.

"So any number of horcruxes could be on his person, and the only way to know they aren't on his person is to find them and destroy them." Ron said. "Wow, this is going to be our toughest challenge yet."

"There is one way…" Harry trailed.

"What's that, Harry, to ask him? 'Excuse me, Mr. You-Know-Who, I'm a great fan of your work, and hear you have six horcruxes, do you want to tell me which ones you have with you right now and which ones you've hidden about the countryside?'" Ron laughed. "He'd kill us on the spot. Well, no, he'd torture us on the spot, and then kill us."

Harry thought 'asking him would work… we only need a way to ask him without his knowledge of what we are asking… perhaps it is time I learned legillimancy…' and Harry then said "We wouldn't ask him nearly like that… I was thinking we could use, like, some invisibility spells and whatnot to sneak in, and I dunno, count?"

"What's a horcrux and what's not? We don't really know what about half of them are, right?"

"Well… it's something of either Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's… but we don't know which, nor what item it is… so…" Harry sighed. "Gods… this is going to be difficult."

At that point they had to cease their conversation and enter the castle with the rest of the students above first-year. As they entered the Great Hall, they noticed its usual splendor with slightly less innocent eyes, and they saw less of a Hall of Wonder and more of a Hall of Sorrow. This came about through their own experiences with the funeral of Albus Dumbledore, which had affected nearly everyone present in that way.

Harry sat down and examined the hall. It was about half as full as it had been at the end-of-term banquet, but it usually wasn't nearly as full, with all of the seventh years leaving. Notably missing were the obvious: all of the seventh-year Slytherins except Nott and Bullstrode had left, and as Nott hated Bullstrode, who was barely smart enough to pass the 6th year, Nott was often considered to be the only seventh year. Harry toyed around with the fact that Blaise Zabini wasn't there, but soon realized that his absense probably meant nothing.

Harry had managed to not hate Nott as he hated the other Slytherins, the boy was reasonably good looking (Harry supposed, as the boy had dated several of the more attractive members of Ravenclaw), farily kind (especially for a Slytherin, Harry once saw the boy use a counter jinx on Malfoy for terrorizing a first-year the year before), highly intelligent (Nott was third in the class, after some Ravenclaw Harry knew only by name), and of course, was made prefect after Malfoy gave up that office. In fact, it was common knowledge that if Harry had not been chosen for Head Boy (McGonnagal apparently HAD favored her house… just not openly) Nott was the runner-up candidate. Nott was always the quiet one, known within Slytherin as a mover and shaker. Whenever one of Malfoy's ridiculous plans was carried out, the only reason Malfoy didn't get in trouble was because of Nott's abilities in concealment and illusion. It didn't hurt that Nott had the charisma of Hitler himself.

Harry looked about the hall, and noticed that the Sorting Hat had quit singing. He remembered the moment in the Chamber of Secrets when he had pulled a sword out of the hat, and killed a giant serpent that belonged to the kid Voldemort, the same person who wrote the book he would be studying Defense from. This revelation turned his mind over to Defense, and the notable lack of an unfamiliar face at the Head Table. Bill had spoken of the new Professor McCadell with almost loving terms, and rumor had it that McCadell had been here when Hagrid was here. Though precisely when, no one could confirm. Harry supposed he'd ask Hagrid tomorrow. Just then, Filch came up and whispered something into McGonnagal's ear. She quickly stood up from the Headmaster's (or as it is now called, Headmistress's) chair and half walked, half ran out of the Great Hall. Harry looked at her face and saw great anticipation.

"Wonder what happened?" Sorting continued as Harry began a whispered conversation with Ron and Ginny.

"Someone probably got through to the castle that McGonnagal didn't expect. That's all." Ginny said.

"I bet it's Peeves." Ron said, "Now that McGonnagal is headmistress, she has to deal with him all the time."

"Peeves has always been doing things, and Dumbledore's never run out to stop him." Harry said, and they all fell into reflective thought.

* * *

The gate opened as a man with long, white hair and massive black robes enterred the castle. 

Content that no one was watching, McGonnagal dropped her pretense of anxiety and adorned a face of great joy, and broke into a run with arms wide open. "Marcus! Oh, Marcus… it's been far too long…"

Professor McCadell opened his arm and embraced McGonnagal. "Minerva… I… it's been too long…"

After a few seconds, they broke. "Where have you been, Marcus?"

"Around… the world has many fascinating things to see and do, and as long as you're on the run from Death Eaters and Ministries alike…"

"So you were with John."

"Merino? No, I think he settled down in the States…"

"Then why…?"

"Well… lets just say that my hunt for certain objects belonging to Voldemort has involved many, many thefts."

"Since when have you called him… well…" McGonnagal looked puzzled.

"Since, ever. Isn't that his name?"

"Well… I suppose… but I always thought you called him something else… can't remember what it is now… but…"

"You must have me confused for John. John's the one who called him the Dark Lord."

"Not sure that was it, but I must just be remembering someone else…"

"That must be it. Gods, it has been so long since I set foot in these walls." McCadell said. "Not since I taught here last time. Speaking of which, how is James Potter and his gang?"

McGonnagal stared at him. "He's dead."

"Really? Ah, that's too bad. And Sirius?"

"Dead too."

"Peter?" McCadell showed signs of only very slight protuberance at these revelations.

"Joined the Death Eaters. Only Remus is still alive and on our side."

"Shame, shame… did Lily survive at least? And how's their son?"

McGonnagal stared at McCadell. "Lily, she's dead too. Harry's okay, he's actually in his seventh year…"

"Odd… odd… I get both the Potters when they are in their seventh year. This time I feel I will be able to last longer." McCadell said. "Perhaps we can last longer as well."

McGonnagal looked into his eyes and said "I'd like that."

* * *

"And I'd like to welcome our newest member of the staff back for his second tour of duty: Professor Marcus McCadell, Ex-Head of Auror Office and previous teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts. I expect all of the student at this school to give Professor McCadell the respect he deserves. Also, on another related matter, anyone petitioning for acceptance into N.E.W.T. Defense will be sad to know that Professor McCadell has kept the same rigorous standards imposed by Severus Snape," Harry and the others noted that McGonnagal had ceased to refer to Snape as a professor "requiring an O on your O.W.L. for acceptance." 

"On that note, may the start of term feast… BEGIN!" McGonnagal raised her arms.

Hermione watched the new teacher intently.

"You're so addicted to schoolwork you can't keep your eyes off the new teacher to eat!" Harry accused, smiling.

"Well… yeah… but look at how McGonnagal looks every time she looks at him." And indeed Hermione was right, whenever McCadell looked at McGonnagal or vica versa, they had loving glimmers in there eyes.

"Gross… elderly love…" Ron said, laughing.

"Hermione, I'm surprised you didn't notice his eating habits." Ginny said. "He only uses his knife… how odd…"

And indeed, he used his knife to cut a slice of steak, and then laid his flat blade under the juicy piece of meat, and thusly lifted it to his mouth. They saw his other hand, his right, had his wand in it.

* * *

Soon after, the meal was over. Full of food and liquids designed to quench one's thirst, the two non-prefects went to find a secluded corner of the castle and… as they put it, talk. The two prefects, however, currently attract out attention being the two people who will do anything not… well… let's just go to what the prefects are doing. 

"First years! First years over here!" Hermione called. "First years, behind us!"

"What's the password again?" Ron asked.

"Ridikulus." Hermione said.

"Hmm… not a bad name, considering what my sister's doing." Ron winked.

"Oh, come now, Ronald… Ginny has a right to your friend and you know it!" Hermione smiled at Ron.

Ron leaned over and kissed her. "Think they'll be doing much of that?"

"Doubt it… I know Harry." Hermione smiled at Harry's incapability of seeing that which is right in front of him. "Ginny might try… then they'll get somewhere, but until then, those two are in trouble."

"Truthfully though," Ron suddenly remembered to say "Trick step! Watch it!" and hop over it, "I really do hope those two get together. I don't like the idea of my baby sister going out with anyone, but at least Harry is a good guy, you know?"

"I should hope you like him." Hermione said, pointing around a bend to let some of the first years know where they should go. "Anyways, all relationships will have troubles, it's how they handle such troubles that allow us to know what the relationship is made of. Like us."

"Perfect example. Three months and I haven't seen a thing… and no end in sight!" Ron smiled as Hermione playfully hit him. "Not to mention other things not in sight."

Hermione looked at him, and walked up to the Fat Lady, thankful they did not meet with the poltergeist that haunted the halls…

* * *

"Harry… it's just that…" Ginny began. 

"I know, I know… you love me. I get it. And I love you. That's why I had to let you go." Harry said. "It's just that you and I couldn't be together. If Voldemort found out about you, then he'd have another powerful weapon over me."

"To crush you? To hurt you? If Voldemort wanted to hurt you through me, he'd do it anyway!"

"He already used you against me once, and I won't let him harm you again. You don't know, it wouldn't be possible for me to lose you."

"So you fix that by never having me?" Ginny demanded. "You would rather not ever have me than take the risk of losing me? And forget bringing the wrath of You-Know-Who on me, I am going to fight him no matter what you do. I still haven't forgiven him for my first year at Hogwarts."

"Even still… if we were together, he would want to use you against me."

"He did that before we were even an item. Don't you understand? Dating me makes him no more likely to use me against you. He's gong to try anyway. He did before, and though he doesn't know how successful that was truly, the same intelligence that guided him to try that is the same intelligence that will guide him to try it again."

"He would have no reason…"

"Since when does Voldemort need a reason for what he does?" Ginny's anger and frustration were extremely apparent in not only the tone of her voice, but the manner in which she interrupted Harry and the use of Voldemort's true name. "Since when does Voldemort sit down and have a reason for the families he's disrupted, the lives he's disrupted, the relationships he's distrupted?" With that she stormed out of the room they had been in.

Harry remarked that he still knew very little about women.

* * *

Monday dawned black. Again, the thick clouds lying over England made little difference between night and day. Many of the students at Hogwarts began whispering about some new power that You-Know-Who might have over the weather. Others scoffed at this idea, but most admitted the idea was with merit. Whether or not Voldemort gained control of weather did not change the fact that the N.E.W.T. Defense class began right shortly after breakfast. Not wanting to quickly be on a teacher's bad side, Harry, Hermione, and Ron dashed through the secret passages to their class. Once seated, they took out their books, quills, and other sundries involved in studying a subject at Hogwarts. The professor came in a full five minutes after class started. 

As he entered with flourish, his dark robes a stark contrast to his long, white hair (upon which there rested no hat), he said in a booming voice with well-practiced elocution, "You may indeed be wondering, as I have had no chance for explanation, the curious circumstances in which the book for our class became to be chosen." A very peculiar style of speech, noted Harry. "Perhaps I had better begin in explaining the idea of defense. This class is entitled defense against the Dark Arts. I tell you, the Dark Arts are not your only foe. I have known the Ministry of Magic, for instance, to create persecution when there need be none. I have seen good-intentioned professors expel innocent students for the misdeeds of Prefects and Head Boys. But I must caution you that I have also seen Death Eaters murder young children, enlist werewolves to kill and maim their foes… all of these things and more. Perhaps you see the world divided between good and evil. Perhaps you see shades of grey. I believe firmly that there are only two divisions in this world: those you can trust, and those you cannot. Another way of putting this is you, and everyone else."

"For the first part of this year, I believe you are well-versed in non-verbal spells, but non-verbal identifications are areas in which you have no training. I plan to change that around. You will form into partners, and one partner will attempt to jinx the other. This jinx must and therefore will be non-verbal. The counter must be tailored to the exact spell cast at you, I will not accept any shield charms, generic counter spells, finite incantatem will result in a detention. And protego will beget you a punishment quite severe." McCadell simply gestured to the other students, a gesture meaning 'get to it.'

Harry found spell identification simple. Hermione tried nailing him with a silent stunning spell, and Harry responded with a simple silent 'enneverate.' Every time Hermione tried to hit him with a spell, Harry simply noted the color of the spell and the wand movement, and blocked it. By the end of the lesson, Hermione was near tears in frustration, while Harry was beaming with pride.

Other than a difficult day of Transfiguration, surprise surprise, the rest of the day went without incident, which is basically to be expected at Hogwarts on the first day: so many under-age wizards out of practice, that no one is truly capable of doing a thing. The absence of most of the Seventh-Year Slytherins may have also contributed to the silence in the castle, though that is merely speculation. At the end of the day, Hermione was working hard on her homework with Ron, while Harry and Ginny (Harry was the only successful person in McCadell's first class, and therefore the only one to not receive any homework) played a rather violent game of Chess.

As a rook laid the smack down on a rather cowardly pawn, Harry asked "How was McCadell's class for the sixth years?"

Ginny sent her knight on a sacrifice mission, which left the beat-up pulp of both Ginny's night and Harry's murderous rook. "Eh… it was okay, I guess… he taught us the idea behind non-verbal spells, and set us to work on using them. Luna was oddly enough the only person to master the spells."

"How'd your other classes go?"

"Transfiguration was tougher than I expected it would be… that class… not easy is it? Conjuration is perhaps the most difficult thing I have ever done."

"So, how much homework did you have from all your classes?"

"Hardly any… McCadell… he doesn't give out too much homework does he?"

"Nah… I didn't get any. But your brother and his girl are over there hard at work." Harry motioned over to the table where indeed, Hermione was concentrating on a book and Ron was concentrating on Hermione. Harry supposed that this could be considered some form of indirect learning, but that it was on the whole most likely rather less effective than simply concentrating on his own book. "Never seen Hermione have so much trouble."

"Well… you kind of have to accept that … check" at this point Ginny made a rather exceptionally brilliant move. Harry responded by knocking his king over and complimenting her on a good game. "at some point, these classes should begin to become difficult for her."

Harry sighed. "Yeah… I suppose so." Desperate to find a somewhat interesting subject, Harry ventured "I'm going to have try-outs the next week, I think. We have an early October game against HufflePuff, and while that group is usually about as good on brooms as our first-years, I did lose to them once, and would rather not repeat the mistake."

"Ah… need another Chaser, huh?" Ginny asked. They set the Chessboard up for another game.

"Yeah… actually, I think Dean will do well, supposing you two can avoid fighting." Harry said. "As in, don't fight with him."

"I won't. And I doubt he'd fight with me… after all, it's not like I'm the lead chaser…" Ginny flashed her ever charming smile. "And hell, I'll be too busy chasing quaffles to notice anything he says."

"Ah, okay… Check."

"Already? Damn, you're good at this game…"

* * *

And so the week passed, without incidents uncommon to Hogwarts… the Slytherin 7th year contingent grew larger as Blaise Zabini joined the school late (he had endured some sort of sickness that had prevented him from joining the school at the beginning of term) and on the whole, friendlier with the Gryffindor 7th year. About 1/3 of the 7th year Slytherins were on at least speaking terms with Gryffindor, and since no one (any year or house) wanted anything to do with Bullstrode, life was generally good. Of course, Blaise had his share of arm candy, but Nott was starting to be considered the catch of the school. He actually sat down with Harry and Hermione in the library the day before Quidditch try outs, and the three studied together for a while. 

Soon the day of tryouts arrived, and Harry grabbed his broom and walked down to the pitch with Ron and Ginny.

There was, as expected, a large number of people expecting to try out. "If you have never been on a broom before, over there! Everyone else, I need you to fly to the castle, touch the top, and come back." Harry had too much experience last year with these tryouts, and decided to make a quick test. Surprisingly, there were fewer people completely inept this time, though many, many giggling girls from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor where in the stands. There were a couple of Slytherins, and they were giggly, but on the whole, they were few in number.

The beater tryout went fine… bludgers getting smacked around, eventually Coote and Peaks were the two front runners again, and had apparently benefited from their year of experience. At Chaser, there was a surprise when Dennis Creevy stopped fawning over Harry long enough to put eighteen goals past Ron in a four on four no bludgers or snitch match. Finaly, Harry decided to pit him against the three chasers from last year, Dean Thomas, Ginny, and the other girl. Dennis Creevy again stood the test, scoring six before Harry had to call it quits. When all the other try outs were complete, Harry compiled a list:

Gryffindor Quidditch Team:  
Captain: Harry Potter

Seeker: Harry Potter

Reserve Seeker: Ginny Weasly

Chaser: Dennis Creevy

Chaser: Ginny Weasly

Chaser: Demelza Robbins

Reserve Chaser: Dean Thomas

Reserve Chaser: Seamus Finnigan

Keeper: Ronald Weasly

Reserve Keeper: Dean Thomas

Indeed, Harry thought, perhaps McLaggen would have been the more skilled reserve, but his attitude last year meant that he would not be welcome even at the tryouts. Harry had sent him back into the castle, informing him that the Keeper tryouts had been completed, when in fact they had not even begun. Harry toyed with the thought of who would be captain after him, and decided that Robbins would take over the team, as Ginny would most likely leave with him after about winter break. Remembering this time schedule he created, he dashed straight from Tryouts to a dungeon he knew was often empty. There he grabbed a cauldron and began brewing a mysterious potion.

"I never knew anyone else to know of the reserve potion room." The voice shocked Harry, and he almost spilled the vial of Pixie Blood all over the floor.

Turning around, Harry saw Nott standing in the doorway.

"But perhaps it is not my place to interfere."

Despite Harry's indication that this was the case, Nott came closer.

"Though I can tell this potion, it doesn't exist. And in my mind, it's not even being brewed. Harry, despite who I am, and what my parents are, know that you can trust me with this."

Harry believed it far too sudden for this statement, they had barely begun getting along an hour ago.

"If you wish for proof, here it is: Umbrage begged me to be a member of her Inquisitorial Squad, and I rejected her, simply because I knew she was punishing you unjustly."

"Such sentiments are rare from a Slytherin."

"The sorting hat, well… would have put me in Hufflepuff before it saw my cunning and ability. It apparently decided that Slytherin could use someone to teach them fairness. Despite the fact that you and I are on opposite sides of the fence in terms of our heritage, we are not dissimilar."

"How so?" Harry was perplexed at the sudden forwardness of the Slytherin.

"Harry, I understand you still do not trust me, nor do I believe your lack of faith is entirely unfounded. But I would ask you this, if I were as untrustworthy as you seem to feel, why would I attempt to gain your trust in this way? I have… the ability to help you. And I know what it is you are currently trying to do. Yes, even the potion. I can help. Just let me prove it."

"And how can you help me?" Harry asked, then gasped at the object the Slytherin pulled from his pocket, dropping a vile of a rather active acid that ate a largish hole in the bottom of the dungeon floor.

"My father killed Regulus Black, and took this from him. Before he had a chance to take this back, my eldest brother nicked it, for sport. He hid it, after seeing how angry my father was at him, and how angry the Dark Lord was at our father. Last year, I found the hiding place, as well as several letters my father received from Black, and stole from Black on the night of Black's death. I know what this is. I know what four of the remaining horcruxes are. I have suspicions on where they are. I can help you." Nott handed the necklace that once contained a piece of Voldemort's soul to Harry. "If this isn't enough proof that I can trust you… I won't, and can't, be trusted by you forever." Nott walked out of the room, leaving Harry with a trinket priceless in value.

* * *

"WHAT?" Ron screamed. "Are. You. SERIOUS!" 

"Look at it yourself. It is the same locket that I saw in the memories with Dumbledore. And I've been doing reveal-spells all afternoon, no enchantments are on it." Harry put it around his neck again. "See? Nothing."

"And NOTT gave this to you?" Ron asked bewildered.

"Yes… he said his father was the murderer of Regulus Black, and Nott's brother had somewhat sticky fingers. Convenient, isn't it?"

"If not by design." Hermione had been silent.

"Can you for ONCE speak less of the gloom and doom?" Ron asked, exasperated by Hermione's unwillingness to see Harry's good luck. "What, did you brew more of that Felix Felicis?"

"No… this was straight from Nott." Harry said, fingering the locket. He opened it and there was nothing. "This is the thing that Dumbledore thought he had spent his life to get. And a death eater's son hands it to us."

"In circumstances that could be no more suspicious." Said Hermione. "I'm sorry, but the son of a death eater hands us an object coveted by You-Know-Who?"

"Would you just call him Voldemort?" Harry said. "Yes… that's what happened."

"Then, Harry, we need to talk to McGonnagal."

"No. McGonnagal is not Dumbledore. The Head whatever of this school is not what made me trust Dumbledore with things like this. McGonnagal is a capable witch, but she is nothing like Dumbledore."

"Agreed, Harry… but she is a better witch than you are a wizard. And she is wise…"

"No. This is our secret, and we will be taking it with us when we leave. Which unfortunately, must now be a little sooner than planned." Harry thought. If Nott knew what Harry and the others were up to, then Harry really had no reason to not allow Nott to assist with the potion. Nott played innocent about the potion, but seemed to know more than he let on. Unless, of course, Nott was playing Harry in a misguided attempt to poison him, Harry could rely on Nott… and at worst, the potion was experimental anyway. If Nott were to help him (Nott being one of two people in the school to get an E in Divination), his skill would be of much more than little use to Harry.

If Nott was sincere about his acquisition of the pendant in question, Nott's feat was no less than marvelous.

* * *

AN: Hope you had fun reading that! And remember, reviews keep me both writing and not writing (if you can't understand how that works, feel free to ask me how in a review)! 

Until next time!  
-He Who Climbs The Tree Of Knowledge Falling Only Occasionally


	3. The Vagrancies of Magic

Sorry it was a day late. I'll try to be more on time form now on.

* * *

Chapter 3.

The Vagrancies of Magic:

September fell without a glimmer of sunshine nor hope being given to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but October began bright, sunny, and generally nice. Hogwarts was gearing up for the game between the worst team in Hogwarts, Slytherin, and the best team (or so many thought, it appeared at worst just as strong as last-year's squad that took Ravenclaw by three hundred and fifty points. The Gryffindor seekers where better, the beaters and keeper the same, the chasers better…) possibly in Hogwarts history. Harry spent his time working on new ways of playing seeker that involved giving his chasers time to score nearly five hundred points a practice match. He even had Ginny fly against him at seeker, and have his reserve chasers play defense, and Harry still managed just enough time to allow his remaining chasers to score an easy three hundred points.

Harry did feel as though he was living in a dream: he had yet to play an entire year of Quidditch since his third year, which was his only year of sustained Quidditch. Harry resolved that it would be he, not Ron, to carry off the trophy this year. Soon after he made that vow, he remembered his intent to leave as soon as possible.

"Good practice everyone! I think we're set… just a couple of days to go, and we're in this season, starting at 1-0. Let's get washed up!"

As the next two days passed, the entire school seemed tense about the first match of the season.

The HufflePuffs were angry with Harry's squad because of several pranks played recently upon one Zacharias Smith, who, it turned out, was a popular member of the house. Several nasty incidents involving cleverly placed pots of devils-snare and other plants that were just a little aggressive seemed to keep happening in bathrooms, the result being that Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team typically light their toilets on fire before using them.

The Ravenclaws were always against the Gryffindors, as even though the two houses were peaceful and pleasant in the classroom together, Ravenclaw was the only other truly competitive team this year, and they wished nothing more than to have the Gryffindors lose their opening match against fourth-ranked Slytherin. Also, still fresh in their minds was the defeat of the past year, when they had been embarrassed by the Gryffindor team missing their seeker and top player, Harry Potter. The Ravenclaw pranks were not pranks as much as they were deliberate attacks on Gryffindor players. Harry and the rest of them began counter-jinxing everything in paranoia.

The Slytherins, as usual, simply hated the Gryffindors, and tried a myriad of ill-advised pranks. The most foolish of these was a half-assed attempt to make all the water at the Gryffindor table full of salt. After the first person took a sip, the fifth-year and ups used a siphoning charm to get rid of the salt water inside of the pitchers, and used 'aguamenti' to put fresh water in the pitchers, and then refilling charms to keep the pitchers full. The only thing the Slytherins succeeded with their stupid prank was allowing all of the Gryffindors practice with basic charms.

---

"And welcome to the FIRST QUIDDITCH MATCH OF THE YEAR!" A great and booming voice, and Harry looked up to find Cormac announcing. Not Harry's first choice, but most likely better then Luna…

"Taking the field, RAVENCLAW!" As seven people with broomsticks and blueish robes entered the pitch, about ½ to ¾ of the stands began screaming their support. "They have a great team this year, what with Cho Chang's graduation, the team found a new seeker in Arnold Wakinski! And of course, they have their usual insanely strong chasing squad, rounded out be excellent beaters and a great keeper!"

"However, they are no match for their opponent, GRYFFINDOR!" This time only about ¼-½ of the stands were cheering. The inauspicious lack of Luna's lion hat was telling: the Gryffindors usually counted on Ravenclaw for support, but in their head-to-head matchups, there was rarely the opportunity to cheer for both sides. "With outSTANDING chasers, good beaters, and an excellent seeker, this team looks primed for victory against Ravenclaw! Unfortunately, Gryffindor's weakness matches up with Ravenclaw's strength: Ron Weasly is not a very good keeper at all. He doesn't see the quaffle right, and drifts a bit to the left, and even has been known to circle! Every keeper worth his salt…" Growling, Harry looked at Ron, whom he had (with trepidation) cast muffliato on. It appeared as if the spell was working.

"Ready for the game, Harry?" Ron called.

"Yes." Harry nodded, knowing that Ron couldn't hear him.

"And there's the quaffle!"

---

"I'd almost forgotten how much I love Quidditch!" Ron crowed back in the common room, during an after game celebration. "It's like, the coolest thing I've ever done!"

"Oh, really?" Hermione asked, then had a questioning look at the amused look Ron gave her. "What?"

"You don't even know how that sounded…" Ron laughed hard.

"I wish I knew what he was up to." Harry said. "I don't get it at all!"

"Oh, knowing Ron it's just another one of his stupid jokes." Hermione said, laughing at Ron laughing at her.

"No, Nott! What's he playing at? He should be helping Voldemort, he should be helping… you know! He should be doing everything that we've come to expect Slytherins of doing." Harry said. "There was a REASON he was chosen Slytherin…"

"Which isn't necessarily 'he's a death eater' you know, it could easily be that he's cunning. Or that he didn't really fit in either of the other houses."

"Really? Seems to me that all of the Seventh year Slytherins either are death eaters or are planning to be death eaters, except Nott. And I only include Nott as an exception because we don't really know."

"But if Nott was a death eater, wouldn't he try to poison me?" Harry asked. "Should I be trusting him?"

"Of course not." Hermione said. "But you don't have a choice any more, now you have to trust him. Let him do whatever you need him to do, and then we'll ditch him."

"Uncommon opinion from you. Usually you're the one advocating those Hufflepuff qualities, like integrity." Ron said. "Seriously, though, Hermione's right, we need to quickly finish with whatever we're doing here and move on. I don't like the idea of sitting around, even if we're learning how to…" at this point, Ron picked up his Potions essay "identify poisons by color and odor… wow… I am so ready to leave this place."

"Are you, now." Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Seems to me you haven't gotten above a 'p' on an essay that I didn't write for you."

"And that is precisely why I saved you from that troll in our first year." Ron continued without missing a beat. "It seems like it was random at the time, I'm sure, but we said you had no friends KNOWING you'd enter the bathroom and knowing the troll would enter, so we could save you and you'd be indebted to us forever."

"Right." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Is this your story too?"

"But if Nott is trying to kill me, he can't be a death eater, right? Because Voldemort wants me for himself. So, I suppose Nott isn't a death eater, well, doesn't mean he's not out for me, or that he doesn't want to be a death eater… still… I think I can trust him."

"Are you still hung up on that?" Ron asked, before grabbing a butterbear from one of the roving tables in the room. "And where'd you get the idea for the tables, Hermione?"

"I saw what Slughorn had done with the house-elves at the party, and while I deplored the use of the house elves in that way, it seemed like a good idea to use some basic locomotion charms and put a path. After that, well, you just let them wander." Hermione looked pleased at her work.

"Hey, I'm proud of it too, and you're the one who did it!" Harry smiled for the first time all night. "Oh, look, it's Ginny, see you all a bit later!" Harry left to talk to Ginny.

Hermione grinned at Harry's back and said, "clueless like with Cho, this boy never learns. Well, Ron, sorry to do this, but I have to quickly charm something for Flitwick tomorrow, I had to put it off because of my insane Runes assignment. I'll see you in a bit!"

Ron looked at Hermione climb the girls dormitory staircase, and turned to climb his own as the party was pretty much over for him.

---

The month of October drifted off into November, pausing only for a day to bring the celebration of Halloween. This year, McGonnagal had determined it would be different, that it would be more of a function than a feast. Grabbing whatever Dress Robes were available, everyone 4th year and up stayed in the Entry Hall while McGonnagal and a couple of other teachers set up. Soon the door opened, and everyone gasped as Professor McCadell stood in front of easily ten thousand dark crystal glasses of various sizes, filled with various liquids, and to various amounts. McCadell was waving his wand, and an enchanting sound similar to the tuning of an orchestra was heard.

"That's… amazing." Harry stated.

"It's McCadell's special crystal orchestra. Actually, it's a bit smaller than I remember… I thought there were lots more, but then again, last time I saw this done was when he had his friend help him out. I guess he can't manage as many of them without John." McGonnagal said. "Anyways, I should welcome you to the Halloween Ball. I'm also going to announce a New Year's ball, so I'll need the head boy and girl to help plan, as well as the prefects."

"Sounds enchanting." Hermione said, walking into the room and looking about at the crystal orchestra and other decorations.

"Not as enchanting as you look." Ron was never particularly gifted at flirting, though he tried now and anon.

Hermione surprisingly blushed at this, and drew herself closer to Ron.

Parvati turned to Harry (after all, Harry wouldn't take Ginny in case Voldemort was watching and decided Harry loved Ginny, and tried to use Ginny against him. With Parvati, there was obviously no cause of fear for this, because Harry didn't love Parvati) and sighed "It's all so gorgeous, shall we find a place to sit?"

The feast had been sans desert, and all people not attending the ball were being served dessert in their own common rooms. Several pies had been baked for the occasion, including but not limited to the American favorites pumpkin and apple. Few of the students had heard of, let alone tasted, these two forms of pies, but all who tasted them generally agreed the pies were of good taste and quality. To anyone who would listen, Professor Binns was trying to explain the history behind these two types of pies, but most simply tuned him out.

Soon there was the sound of a great orchestra playing a ghostly type of music, and people seemed unsure of whether or not to dance to it. McGonnagal and Hagrid proved to everyone that you were supposed to dance to the music, and that you were supposed to dance well.

"Dance, Harry?" Parvati asked.

"Sure." Harry said, and led her out onto the floor. "You look lovely."

Parvati smiled. "I love the way your eyes are complemented by your robes."

Slowly they revolved around the spot clutching each other. Every once in a while, Harry caught a glance of Ginny and noticed the sour expression on her face. If only Harry could tell her… if only Harry could make her understand that he couldn't be with her because he loved her, and Voldemort could use that.

Ron glanced at Ginny once before saying to Hermione, "I need to take care of Ginny a bit."

Hermione looked over and said "Want me to come along?"

"No thanks… I think this would be better suited for me, not you."

Ron walked over and sat down next to Ginny. "Sad that you aren't here with Harry?"

"Not as sad as I am that he feels fine coming with someone else."

"Harry… has a tendency to be a git." Ron said. "You should've seen him trying to court Cho Chang, it was actually pretty damned funny. She was infinitely more possessive than any other person I've met yet, including myself." Ginny laughed at this. "Don't worry, he'll come around, and realize he needs you."

"I got the impression that you weren't happy with me dating him."

"It's… the way older brothers get about their baby sisters. Even Fred and George acted the same way when they heard you were going out with that Ravenclaw guy. We just love you and don't want you to get hurt, and it's also really REALLY weird to sleep in the same room as a guy who's made out with your baby sister. I look at you and see you still as you were before I came to Hogwarts. I know, I know, it explains a lot, and it probably makes you hate me, but try and understand that as your brother, I feel like you shouldn't be having boyfriends yet. Trust me, I'll get used to you dating Harry, I promise."

"But he doesn't want to date me, does he? That's why he came up with that bullshit excuse at the end of last year."

"He does want to date you. He just can't see past You-Know-Who and what he might do, to what Harry NEEDS to do. Harry needs you, because you are what completes him. He has me and Hermione as friends, just like I have Harry as a friend and Hermione as… well, you were at the wedding, you know. Anyway, when You-Know-Who's gone, Harry will see that he needs you. So just wait."

Ginny thought about this. The conclusion she came to was one that Harry wouldn't accept, but it was one that Harry needed to hear before he began his crusade. She would tell him, but the importance of where still plagued her mind.

Later that evening, Ginny was wandering the upper halls when the soft sound of a guitar drew her to a conservatory where she saw Professor McCadell playing.

"Professor McCadell?"

The large man looked up. "Welcome to the Hotel California." he sang, then said, "What is it, my dear?"

"Hotel California?"

"This band from California, called 'The Eagles' wrote one of the most beautiful songs on earth." He was still playing the guitar. "It's about a hotel in the desert, figurative I think, that is the greatest place on earth, and you are free to come and go, but forever your heart will dwell there." He put up the guitar. "But what's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing's wrong."

"There is this ability called ligilimancy, it's the ability to, almost read minds. Almost, mind you" he chuckled softly at this pun "because the mind isn't a book. Well, not a book in the sense that we know it. Imagine the mind is a book, one that is multi dimensional. When you read one point of the book, there's a large number of different spots in the book that relate to that one point, and each of those points have points that relate to them, and sometimes these points refer to points that refer to them… it's long and involved. I believe there's a partial map somewhere to the human brain, with deviation calculations for different experiences and different personalities, which can easily be gathered through the same set of spells that charmed the sorting hat. Of course, searching through the brain is intrusive and dangerous, if something goes wrong, the object of study goes insane. And the nature of brain study requires a live person. It's also true that too much exploration in one's brain can cause serious damage if not done correctly."

"What does this have to do with…"

"So, can you think of something you and I share that follows a road to your brain?"

"Well… no."

"Magic. Spells originate in the sub-conscious brain, take their form in the cerebrum, their direction from your arm and hand, their power in the wrist, and finally their focus in the wand. Remove one of these steps, and the careful art of spell casting will fail, usually. There are ways around this, and ways to help things along. For instance, we use the incantation to help the cerebrum maintain the form of the spell. Also, we can induce magic without the use of the wand, albeit not particularly useful magic. Mostly things like making glass disappear, hair grow back, extra jumping ability, even blowing up one's relations. Sometimes people gain the ability to harness their magic raw by utilizing the emotions that cause the wild magic. Tom Riddle was the first person I met who was capable of controlling wild magic (oxymoronic, I know) and channeling it into real spells. I myself am capable of it, to a point. I can't do anything particularly useful, but I can do a reduction curse pretty well. And I can summon small items occasionally, but they can't be much farther than about thirty feet or any larger than say, a wand."

"But what does this have to do with whether or not something's wrong?"

"With this engaging of the mind into something like a spell, it's rather simple to follow the magic back to it's roots and find this road to the mind, after all, Magic follows a sort of channel or road from the mind to the wrist, wand and finally the world. Don't forget that rule, wrist wand world is the most important rule in spell casting. Anyways, so we follow the magic, to find the path. Once we find the path, we can follow that path all the way up to the brain, and even fiddle with the brain to disrupt a spell. Or, if we've got practice in this sort of thing and know anything about the mapping of the brain in question, we can determine if someone's lying to us, or even if they are happy, sad, stress free, or even troubled. The second use of this path is known as Legilimancy."

"But how did you get into my mind if I wasn't casting a spell?"

"It's possible to remember the path to the mind, if you wish, after seeing someone cast a spell the first time. Or you could use a spell to force the path open. Either of these options can be blocked, however, by using Occlumency. Remembering the path is less about remembering where the path is, as it is how to recognize tiny traces of the path. The fastest way into the mind is through the eyes, obviously, because there's no bone between the eye and the brain, and the two organs are very, very close together in anatomy. What allows me to see the path is the emotions conflicting for control of your brain. Emotions are closely tied with spell casting, this is why your Patronus takes a particular shape. And it is also why wizards and witches sometimes lose their powers or have them altered, and explains why dementors have such control over us. If a wizard or witch had, say, a traumatic childhood and early adult hood, only to find love in a muggle who then leaves her with nothing in the world but his baby in her womb, and she has to give up her child to an orphanage, she might find herself incapable of casting a spell because the emotions have smothered her conscious mind. Or, alternately, if someone, say, lost their father and then got expelled from school, their powers might diminish or change, and then if they were forced to relive that experience over and over, say from a dementor, they might lose their powers forever. These emotions are closely tied to magic, and disturbing them is disturbing your powers. But some witches and wizards learn to control their emotions and hide them, so it becomes very near impossible to find the routes to the mind."

"Alright… that's great. So you figured out I'm troubled, okay, but not by what?"

"Like I said, the mind is almost infinitely complex, and navigating it can be difficult and is always dangerous. I saw something was troubling you, but didn't risk finding out what, I care for you too much." McCadell turned his deep pools of eyes onto Ginny, and for a brief moment a shining joy could be seen in them. They went back quickly, however, into their deep pools of darkness, windows to thought that never ceased. "And because it's rather rude, bursting into your mind like that would be akin to stealing your diary. Care to share?"

"Well… It's kinda personal. Let's just say my boyfriend dumped me."

"Let him learn to live with his choice. Either he can, and you should move on, or he can't, and you'll get back together. Now, off to bed before I'm forced to give you a detention!" McCadell smiled, leaving the room.

Ginny thought back to his lengthy speech about ligilimancy, and wondered how his most sagely advice could be the one less filled with knowledge.

---

It's a little bit short, I know... anyways, can anyone guess what Nott's up to? Can anyone guess what Professor McCadell saw in Ginny? Can anyone guess what Professor McCadell's roll in the second war is or was? Bet you can't, but that's because I've only put in minor hints, no hints, and for the last one it requires you to have read the end of a story that wasn't written. But that's okay, don't worry! All will be explained!


End file.
